


French Perfume

by Pastaaddict



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Chibi America (Hetalia), Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pirate England (Hetalia), Songfic, Under the name Pastaaddict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-05 00:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14604756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastaaddict/pseuds/Pastaaddict
Summary: Little America asks for a bedtime story so England tells him one.  A story about a smuggler and pirate.





	French Perfume

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the song French Perfume by Great Big Sea. Great song!  
> I do not own Hetalia or the song.

 

**_**French Perfume** _ **

  


"Tell me a stowwy, Engwand!" Little America sat up in the bed England was trying to tuck him into but the young Nation had too much energy to sleep. He bounced up and down chanting, "Stowwy, stowwy!"

England smiled softly at his little colony. America was an amazingly cute child with those adorable sky-blue eyes and golden locks with that funny cow-lick that stuck up at the front. The red ribbon around the neck of his little nightgown came undone as he continued to bounce.

"All right!" England retied the ribbon back into a bow. "But only if you get back under the covers and lie down quietly." America scrambled back into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. England moved the candlestick that stood on the table next to America's bed back so less light shone over America. England hoped that the dimness would make the little Nation drowsy.

"What stowwy is it?" America asked. England sat down on the bed.

"It's about a smuggler!"

* * *

"Ar ye sure ye not be wanting any comp'ny, Cap'n?" His first mate, a man built like an oak tree and had more tattoos than clear skin, asked as he handed over small barrels of perfume, tobacco and rum.

"No room!" his captain replied as he took the last keg and put it in the last remaining space in the hold. Captain Arthur Kirkland did not use his ship, _The Unicorn_ , for smuggling. His smaller vessel, _The Sea Fae_ , was much faster for the clandestine trips and could be sailed by one man. Arthur looked out at the fog in the bay. It was thick, not as thick as he would like but he was going anyway. It was a short run from Port Royal across to Tortuga but there was always a risk of running into a revenue ship and his first mate shared his concern.

"Ye reckon the fog be thick enough, Cap'n?" The first mate respected Captain Kirkland despite his slight stature and his blonde hair and emerald eyes that made him a mite too pretty for a man although the bushy eyebrows stopped him from looking too effeminate but Captain Kirkland was a fearsome pirate that had lead the crew through more than one successful battle and to  more than a fair amount of treasure and booty and not once, under his command, had they ever seen the inside of a gaol.

But the first mate had a bad feeling about this night.

"Just one last run," Arthur reassured him as he closed the hatch to the hold. "Then I'll meet you and the boys back at the Crow's Nest. Right, cast me off!" The first mate released the mooring lines and threw them on to the boat as Arthur unfurled the black sails and pulled up the anchor. The mast creaked as the wind caught the sails and _The Sea Fae_ began to pull away from the dockside.

"There'll be a pint of rum waiting for ye at the Crow's Nest, Cap'n," the first mate shouted the promise. Arthur waved to the man and then turned his attention to the sea as he sailed out from Port Royal. As the first mate walked away, he could not shake the feeling that this would be the last time he would see Captain Arthur Kirkland.

* * *

Just out from Port Royal, a revenue ship was waiting in the darkness as if they knew that a smuggler was about. In spite of the black sails, the attentive revenue men easily spotted _The Sea Fae_ as the ship crawled through the weakening fog and Arthur squinted as the dark around the revenue ship lit up, cast light over _The Sea Fae_ and turning night into day.

 

"HEAVE TO!" the captain of the revenue ship shouted. Arthur smiled, smugly and spun the helm wheel and went to full sail. _The Sea Fae_ turned away and began to speed away from the revenue vessel and the ship gave chase as Arthur pointed _The Sea Fae_ in the direction of the nearby Piquet Rocks. The crew of the revenue ship could hear Arthur laughing as he got caught up in the thrill of the chase, despite the distance between the two vessels decreasing.

 

 _The Sea Fae_ 's mast creaked to almost breaking point under the full and straining sails and Arthur could not keep the grin from his face as this was the most fun he had had in some time. As his ship raced toward Piquet Rocks, the seagulls began taking to the air and squawking like banshees in chorus while _The Sea Fae_ bore down on the rocks and hit them at high speed.

* * *

The crew of the revenue vessel watched as the smuggler ship they were chasing slammed into the rocks and suddenly the sky lit up as the ship exploded, sending fire into the sky. The seagulls squawked louder as they flew to escape the inferno and falling debris that had been blown into the air. Wrecked wooden planks littered the rocks, ablaze and the smell of perfume and rum battled with the smell of burning and was somehow winning and tobacco floated on the water, sticking to the rocks. What was left of _The Sea Fae_ was disappearing beneath the waves in full view of the crew of the revenue ship. Their prey had eluded them but not escaped. The information they had been given had proved correct and, while they had failed to catch the smuggler, he had not gotten away. That was as good as a capture and the revenue ship turned and began to sail back to harbour, leaving a legend in its wake.

* * *

"And they say that you can hear the smuggler's laugh when it's foggy and cold on Piquet Rocks and they say sometimes, you can see the wake of his ship in the moonlight outside Port Royal and, if you don't run away in fear, you can smell the French perfume," England finished his story and turned to see Little America snoozing peacefully in his little bed. He pulled the covers up to cover the little colony and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“Sweet dreams, Poppet,” England whispered, picking up the candlestick and he left Little America to sleep. As he went down the stairs, he blew out the candle and put the candle stick down, telling his housekeeper he was going out and to look after America. He left the house and began walking to the nearest tavern as he thought about the aftermath of the sea chase.

* * *

As _The Sea Fae_ raced toward Piquet Rocks, Arthur opened the hold and took out a barrel that was empty. Then he opened another barrel full of gun powder and stuck a fuse into it. He lit the fuse, picked up the empty barrel and jumped over the side. The ship left him behind and crashed into the rocks. The fuse burned out and ignited the gun powder keg, sending fire and bits of ship into the sky.

 

Arthur clung to the empty barrel that was keeping him afloat and kicked his way behind one of the rocks as the revenue ship came to survey the wreckage. He waited breathlessly as the ship sailed by and then it sailed away. Arthur let out the breath he had been holding. Sacrificing _The Sea Fae_ had been a hard but necessary thing to do. He could not continue to sail the seas as a pirate, be England and raise America. something had to go and it was Captain Arthur Kirkland. He had provided the information about his smuggling run to the revenue officers himself and he knew the ship would be there. Word would soon spread that Captain Arthur Kirkland had been killed on a smuggling run. Of course, France and Spain would realise the truth when he showed up as England again but it was not them he was trying to fool.

Now he would settled down to be a gentleman and America's caretaker.

* * *

As he walked into the tavern, there was a man playing an instrument and he began singing a song about a legend. A legend about a smuggler who was never caught and the night of his fiery death, running from the revenue and how, sometimes, the sound of his laughter can still be heard and the smell of the French perfume he had been carrying still drifted on the breeze and, if you looked carefully, you could see the wake of his ship on the water. England smiled at the song, thinking if only they knew and he raised his ale to the memory of Captain Arthur Kirkland.

Rest In Peace.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The original names in the song were St Pierre, Montier Bay and Spanish Room but I don't know if these places really exist so I used Port Royal, Tortuga and Piquet Rocks which do.


End file.
